If Vernon was at the hardware store, then Maia was probably alone at the farm, and maybe I’d be able to talk to her. I simply had to find out if she knew where Aubrey could be. If nothing else, I couldn’t be responsible for Monte if someone was trying to harm him.
I abruptly turned left and headed out of town.
Maia and Vernon’s place once again impressed me with the attention that had been paid to the outbuildings, in contrast to the slightly neglected look of the house. I parked in front and walked up on the porch, being careful to make noise. It’s not polite to sneak up on anybody who lives out in the country.
I had knocked three times and had nearly given up when I heard a horn honk behind me. I whirled to see a sedan turning into the road. The car was a sedate tan, but it was being driven as if it were a bright red, souped-up sports model. I saw Maia’s mop of black hair behind the wheel.
She skidded to a stop on the gravel drive, throwing up a cloud of dust, then jumped out of the car. “Lee! Have you found Aubrey?”
Maia looked awful. Her hair was matted, her makeup was streaked. She wore her usual black pants and shirt, but they looked as if she’d slept in them. She’d left off her clunky jewelry, and instead of her usual black ballet-type slippers, she wore tennis shoes.
She trotted up onto the porch. “Where is he? I must find him!”
“I haven’t heard from Aubrey,” I said. “I came here hoping you knew something.”
“Drat the man! A plague on him!”
A plague on him? Hmmm. “I wondered if he gave you any kind of hint as to where he was going.”
“Come in, come in!” Maia pushed past me, opened the unlocked door, and led me inside a living room that was as bedraggled as the outside of the house. She staggered over to a tired-looking plaid couch and sat down. “I went over to the Peach Street B&B to see if he was there.”
“Sarajane told Aunt Nettie it looked as if he hadn’t come in last night. You know he left Monte with Aunt Nettie and me.”
“I heard that—from somebody. Was it you?” Maia’s eyes closed. “But you palmed him off on Lindy Herrera.”
“Just for the day, Maia. Lindy was keeping him while Aunt Nettie and I were at work. But somebody fed the poor thing chocolate.”
Maia licked her lips and gave a giggle. “Chocolate sounds good.”
“It’s good for people. But it’s poison to dogs.”
“I know.” Her eyes took on a crafty look. “Is Monte dead?”
“Monte? No. The vet says he’ll be all right. But I need to tell Aubrey what’s happened to him. Are you sure he didn’t give you any idea of where he was going? When did you last talk to him?”
Maia got up and paced around the living room. “I haven’t seen him or talked to him since Tuesday night, since we all went to dinner at the Warner River Lodge.” Her voice took on a singsong quality. “I came home about four. I took a long, soaking bath. I lay down and rested for half an hour. I got dressed. Aubrey and Nettie came around seven, and we went out to dinner. Afterward, they dropped us off. They didn’t come in. Vernon and I went straight to bed. Vernon was here all the time.”
It was a rather peculiar answer, but none of Maia’s comments were making too much sense. I tried a new tack. “Maia, when did you first hear from Aubrey?”
“First?”
“Yes. When did he first call about buying the movie rights to your book? Last week? Last month?”
“Sometime.” Maia ran her fingers through her hair, or at least she tried. They got stuck in some of the tangles, and she gave up and simply pulled the fingers loose. “Aubrey called the day before he showed up,” she said. “That was Monday. He drove in Tuesday morning. Why does it matter?”
“If I could track down some of his associates, maybe they know how to find him. He must have a secretary.” Or he would if he were a genuine movie producer. I left that unspoken.
Maia puffed herself up like a bird on a cold morning. “If he has a secretary, it isn’t I,” she said.
“I know that.”
“Everybody keeps asking me about Aubrey, just as if I was his secretary.”
“Everybody?”
Maia made another try at tossing her matted hair. “People.”
She flopped back onto the couch. Her getting up and sitting down and pacing back and forth was beginning to make me as nervous as it apparently made her. I decided I was wasting my time. One more question. “Did Aubrey give you an address for his California offices?”
“No!” Maia laughed, but she didn’t sound pleased. “Aubrey’s a man of mystery. I’m beginning to realize that.”
“Thanks for letting me ask you all these questions, Maia. I’ll go now.” I turned toward the door. But before I could open it I heard footsteps outside. They were approaching swiftly. I opened the door and saw Vernon trotting up the steps.
His face was screwed up. With anger? That wouldn’t have surprised me. But when he spoke his voice didn’t sound angry. I wasn’t sure what emotion it had, but it didn’t seem to be anger.
“What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to talk to Maia, but I shouldn’t have bothered her.”
Vernon came in the front door. “Maia! Where did you go?”
“Just over to the Peach Street B&B, Vernon.” There was an undertone of guilt in Maia’s voice.
“You should have taken your medicine.” Vernon shifted his stare from Maia to me. “Why did you want to talk to her?”
“I’m still trying to find some black gown on Aubrey.” Vernon’s jaw dropped, and I felt like an idiot. “Background! I mean, I’m trying to find some background about Aubrey.”
I went on quickly, determined to change the subject to one that wouldn’t make me feel nervous. “By the way, Vernon, I grew up in farming and ranching country, you know, and I want to tell you how impressive your layout is.”
“My layout?”
“Ensminger’s Orchards. The barns and storage buildings just sparkle. The equipment looks great. The orchards are neat as a pin. How much help do you have?”
I asked a few more questions. This seemed to thaw Vernon. He began to look calm, then even to show a bit of enthusiasm. I tried another question. “Did you grow up on a fruit fly? I mean, farm! Did you grow up on a fruit farm?”
“No, I didn’t know a thing about farming before Mae and I got married. Everything I know about orchards I learned from Silas.”
“Then his death must have been a double shock to you, Vernon.”
He nodded. But he didn’t say anything.
I tried to look understanding. “I know. The police inquiry and everything. It’s dreadful.”
Vernon sighed. “Mae and I have been over it and over it. We came home about four. Mae took a bath, then laid down for a while. I worked on my crop report. Then I took a shower. We got dressed and went out to dinner. Aubrey and Nettie picked us up at seven.”
Vernon was answering a question I hadn’t asked. And we seemed to be covering old territory. I headed for the door. “I’m sorry I bothered you all. Maia needs to get some rest.”
“She will. I’ll see to that.”
I paused in the doorway and asked one more question.
“As you can tell, I’m not familiar with fruit growing. There’s one piece of equipment that’s always stumped me. The three-legged ladder. Why is it better than a regular ladder?”
Maia giggled. I stared at her, but Vernon ignored her. “It’s really just a stepladder,” he said. “It rests against the branches. But the leg keeps the weight of the ladder and the picker off the tree. Besides, the leg can snake through the branches and keep the ladder steady.”
Maia shook her tousled head. “Forget the ladder,” she said. “I don’t want to talk about any ladder.”
Vernon and I stared at her. She giggled vigorously. “I’m just a secretary. Maybe an answering machine.”
She was repeating the comment she’d made a few minutes earlier. I decided to try for information.
“You mean being asked to take messages for Aubrey? Who asked you to do that?”
“That newspaper guy.”
“Chuck O’Riley? What did he want?”
“Nosy. Jus’ nosy.”
Vernon’s face looked as if he’d been kicked. It reminded me that he had sobbed at the funeral home. When I said good-bye he mumbled an answer. Then he walked out on the porch and watched until I drove off.
I certainly hadn’t gotten any real information from Maia. But she had sparked an idea. The more I thought about it, the more I liked it.
As soon as I got to my desk I called Chuck O’Riley.
Chapter 12
C
alling Chuck may have been my intent, but life intervened. My working life that is. I’d been gone most of the afternoon, but TenHuis Chocolade had been rocking along. Before I could call anybody I had to go through a pile of messages Aunt Nettie had taken while I’d been gone. Most of them could wait, but I had to call the bank, then do an invoice for five pounds of crème de menthe bonbons, which would adorn the pillows of the new Gray Gables Conference Center. Aunt Nettie had already boxed them up. I’d deliver them on my way home.
When I finally called Chuck, he sounded harassed. “You barely caught me,” he said. “This is supposed to be my day off.”
“I guess I knew that, Chuck. Since the
Gazette
came out today. But I’ll trade you a half pound of TenHuis’s best for the answer to a question.”
“What’s the question?”
“Have you looked into the background of Aubrey Andrews Armstrong?”
There was a long silence. Chuck cleared his throat. Then he spoke. “Why do you ask?”
“I tried to look him up on the Internet, just out of curiosity. And I couldn’t find him there. I wondered if you had better sources.”
“I hadn’t tried to find out anything about him until he disappeared. I couldn’t find out anything on the Internet either. So I called the Michigan Film Office.”
“I e-mailed them. The director was out of town.”
“She still is, but someone should call me back pretty quick.”
“Did Aubrey give you a business card? Or anything in writing?”
“No. Lee, why do you want to know this?”
“I need to find Aubrey. I guess you’ve heard that he dumped his dog on Aunt Nettie and me.”
“I also heard the dog was poisoned. I wasn’t going to do the story today, since I can’t get it in the paper until next week, but what’s the deal on that? A dog poisoner would be worth a story.”
That was something I didn’t mind talking about. I told Chuck all about it. When I’d finished, he spoke. “What are you going to do about the dog when he’s well?”
“I hope Aubrey will be back by then.”
“Chief Jones seems to think something has happened to the guy. What do you think?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea. I hope Aubrey has taken off on some sort of trip. And I also hope he’ll be back soon to take responsibility for Monte. That’s why I was asking if you had some contact information for him.”
“I interviewed him, of course. Anything I learned about him is in today’s
Gazette,
Lee.”
I began to wonder if the
Gazette
had information on other topics. “How complete are your files, Chuck?”
“We’ve got all the back issues. Either bound or on microfilm.”
“How about files on people?”
“You mean, like Lee McKinney is named business manager of TenHuis Chocolade? Or Joe Woodyard takes job as city attorney? Yeah, we’ve got stuff like that.”
“Do you let the public look at it?”
“Sure. You’re welcome to come by the office and look at our files. But not today. Tomorrow morning. Okay?”
I could hardly ask Chuck to stick around on his day off just to satisfy my curiosity. I agreed to wait until morning. Then I hung up and gave myself a pep talk about getting my own work done. That resolve lasted about ten minutes, until Dolly Jolly appeared in the door of my office.
Her voice boomed. “Lee! I wanted to talk to you before I left!”
I tried not to grimace as I looked up. After all, I was supposed to be running the paycheck and health insurance side of TenHuis Chocolade. I couldn’t refuse to speak to employees.
“What can I do for you, Dolly?”
Dolly lowered her voice to a low roar. “It’s sort of private.”
Oh, gosh. It was something important. Or personal. Did she need time off? Was she sick? I hoped she hadn’t already decided she hated the chocolate business; Aunt Nettie was really pleased at how quickly Dolly was catching on.
My uneasiness grew when Dolly came in and closed the door, isolating the two of us in the glass cubicle. I waved her to a chair. “This looks serious, Dolly.”
“It’s serious to me,” she said. Dolly’s freckled face was getting red. She didn’t go on immediately, but took several deep breaths before she spoke again.
“This Mae Ensminger,” she said. “Do you think she’s mentally ill?”
I was astonished. Why on earth would Dolly ask such a question? And why would she ask me? Anyway, the answer popped out.
“How the heck would I know?”
Then I felt terrible, because Dolly looked more miserable than ever. She had obviously wanted something more than a smart-aleck answer.
“You’ve been around her a lot,” she said. “You’re a smart person. I’m just asking you for your opinion, not for a diagnosis.”
“Why do you care?”
Dolly looked down and did something I’d never seen her do before. She mumbled. “I guess I don’t really have a good excuse,” she said. “I just wondered if insanity runs in her family. Her uncle was kind of odd. And if her real grandfather was like the one in the book . . .”
This was certainly the strangest conversation I’d had in a long time. But it was very serious to Dolly. I didn’t want to give her a brush-off, but I didn’t know what to answer.
“Dolly, I never heard that any of them were hospitalized for mental problems,” I said. “You could ask Aunt Nettie. Or Hazel. They’re the natives here.”
“I thought I could ask you, and you wouldn’t tell anybody I wanted to know.”